Hmmm, Harry Potter in Slytherin?
by Zoerawrr
Summary: Harry Potter is a Slytherin! We see how Harry goes through his whole school life if he was a Slytherin. And it all started with one tiny incident... THANKS FOR ALL C2 ADDS! So you know i'm rewriting this... again. Up to chapter 4 has been rewritten.
1. The Past

**Before I start, I need you to tell me whether or not it's worth fitting all seven years into one story, or make 7 different stories for each year/part. Your views are most appreciated, though I'm thinking more all years in one.**

**Disclaimer: (this applies to EVERY chapter, because I do not want to have to say it more than once) **_**ahem**_**, I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING TO DO WITH HARRY POTTER! ALL HAIL JK ROWLING!**

**And we begin!**

**Chapter 1**

Harry potter was a normal boy in many ways. He looked normal except from his hair which stuck in every direction. He had a house and a bedroom (if you could call it that. It was actually a cupboard, but Harry didn't mind). And he went to school like everybody else.

But there were more abnormal things about Harry. For example; the lightening-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He didn't know how he got this despite his aunt's attempts to tell him it was from a car crash which also killed his parents, Lily and James. He also had an ability to make odd things happen...

…

"Harry Potter! Will you _stop_ messing around in my classroom!?" the usually kind class teacher of year 1 shouted across the classroom.

"It wasn't me! Dudley did it!" 5-year old Harry squeaked from the first row of tables in the room. His cousin, Dudley Dursley, sat right next to him. This was due to the fact that he was meant to be a "good" influence on Harry. Of course, Dudley had been flicking pieces of pencil around.

"Stop lying! I've had enough of your talking back and false accusations. One more bad move from you and I'll make sure you're expelled!" the teacher cried. None of her young class really understood what she'd said, but nothing fooled them into not thinking that Harry was in big trouble. The teacher turned back to the white-board that she had been writing on.

"Yeah, yeah, good to see you too, you big cow lady, _Incendio!_" Harry muttered. He didn't even know he'd said anything out of the ordinary, so just closed his eyes and lay on the desk. That is, until the teacher screamed.

Harry opened his eyes and a saw just a flash of flame. The teacher's hair was on fire! She ran from the room, closely followed by the classroom assistant. Each child knew not to make a sound, and to just sit in their chairs. Very soon, their headmistress arrived with the assistant to question the kids. But before she even opened her mouth-

"HARRY DID IT!" Dudley cried.

…

Technically, it was true. Harry did it, but he never knew he did. The poor kid was expelled that very day. The assistant hadn't seen anything, and everybody was too scared to go against Dudley's word.

…

It didn't take long for Harry's aunt and uncle to find another school for their nephew. It turned out to be a boarding school for boys aged five to eleven, the junior version of (though completely unconnected to) St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. What the school tried to do was put the boys back on track.

Harry had been expelled before he'd got much further than one month into his first ever term. His aunt and uncle had been apoplectic with rage, but not because he'd ruined his education. Oh no, the Dursleys were angry because they did not want to be associated with anyone out of the ordinary.

Now, I must point out that Harry was no longer willing to cooperate with adults. Had they not expelled him without hearing him out, then fine. But now, the 5 year old was prepared to make hell for the adults. In a way, he was smarter than anyone thought he was, more cunning, more devious. He understood much more about what was going on and what would happen if he carried on. Nevertheless, he couldn't care less. It was a good job he had these brains, because Harry wasn't good in school, and never would be until he would turn eleven. But we'll get to that later.

It was the term after Harry's Christmas at this school. Harry had spent the holidays there at his guardians' request and he was ready to make some trouble. Getting no love was not new, but it seemed to hit him harder to see the other boys getting things sent from home. Dudley had of course got things when Harry was home, but as the Dursleys were in a relatively good mood on that day of the year, Harry would also get some sort of a present. This year Christmas day was like any other day of the year.

A day into the new term would call for a visit from the governors and the head man from whatever deals with education and welfare of students. Harry's plan was nothing major at all; just drop a massive cloth type thing on top of them that he'd found in the drama department, during the assembly where they would sit up at the front. Hardly something worth more than some stern words. Although, his cleverly placed rope may cause a bit of a stir.

The big day came and Harry made his way to the assembly hall with everybody else. During the night he had snuck out of his room and hitched the cloth in position. Harry didn't need anything to help it fall; he just knew it would happen.

All of the important guests had stood in front of the school and were waffling on about god knows what. Harry knew he should have been listening, as he had no idea what this assembly was for in the first place. Nevertheless…

"OK, drop!" Harry muttered, and down it went! The entire stage was engulfed in the billowing red cloth, all the people onstage engulfed within it. The headmaster of the school ran onstage and went to help get the cloth off. Of course before he had reached it Harry's "side plan" came into action.

The man was promptly swept off his feet by a nylon rope that nobody had previously noticed. He dangled by one ankle and pandemonium ensued.

…

How was Harry to know that one of those guests was severely claustrophobic? How was he to know that the same man could have near fatal panic attacks? How was _anyone_ to know that another man would fall victim to heart attack? How was someone as young as Harry to know that the rope couldn't hold the weight of the headmaster, and would therefore snap when the man was five feet into the air? How was anyone to know that a five year old could almost cause three deaths? Nobody; until Harry handed himself in.

Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was pride. Maybe Harry just wanted people to know that _he_ had that sort of power. Whatever it was, Harry felt compelled to own up. When he did nobody found it that hard to believe, and after a full enquiry Harry was once again expelled.

…

Five Years and 29 schools later, Harry found himself being expelled for the penultimate time. His 32nd placement had been yet another school for hard to place children. It was much harder for any school to take him as he got older, so the "unfortunate incidents" grew less dangerous and criminal-like. Anytime Harry did anything bad enough for him to get taken away, there was no evidence to prove it was him, so he had to leave because of "persistent misbehaviour". Before this 32nd school, nobody had died.

Yet.

There just weren't enough schools in Surrey. Sometimes Harry was forced to stay with his Aunt Marge to get into some schools. Harry hated her. He had just come back from what turned out to be his final stint with the wretched woman, as a new school had opened in the Little Whinging area for people just like Harry. Harry was hardly their worst pupil.

It was a boarding school, with 10 feet tall electric fences and barbed wire on top to keep anyone getting in or out. The staff lived in the grounds, guards patrolled the perimeter, teachers had nightly shifts in the corridors, the floors in the dormitories had what seemed like invisible laser or sensor beams which triggered an alarm in security when disturbed; it was more like a prison than a school. Then again, the age ranged from 10 to 16 and its worst students had serious issues. One of them (a 13 year old) had actually killed someone with some stolen pepper spray (albeit accidentally; the person had bad asthma and was one of the boy's "gang"). If Harry wasn't the worst pupil he was among them.

Harry had been expelled from his other schools for a variety of reasons, none the same as the last but mostly accidents. Like once Harry had been publicly humiliated in front of most of the school. He stood in front of a large block of classrooms; you could see into all of them as the one side was made from glass. It was the first time Harry really lost his temper; all of the glass behind him flew from the panes and over the crowd. It was one of those times that they couldn't pin it on Harry.

Sometimes Harry got into trouble by using his own free will, one of the more memorable times being when he skipped school one day (which he had a habit of doing, not that anybody complained) and phoned the school from a phone box and told them a bomb was going to go off. Good times…

Getting back to the point, Harry's new school was completely cut off from the outside world, with the few exceptions being mail and the weekly food drop-off. Harry arrived on the same day as everyone else for a change, and therefore was not alone in getting lost. He was, however, alone generally; Harry never got close to anybody because of … reasons withheld, as it was written in his file.

There was this one boy in every single one of Harry's classes, called Charlie Quake. He had the bed next to Harry in the hospital ward-like dormitory, due to them being next to each other in terms of alphabetical order (last name). This boy had no parents and had been removed from most of his foster homes or other placements. Charlie had caused hell for many people in his life, and he let nobody forget it. But this boy endeavoured to make one thing certain, and he achieved it; he was totally unwanted.

Charlie had somehow found out that Harry was in a very much similar situation (he probably got his hands on the files through blackmail and the like) and used this to try and befriend Harry. By this time Harry was almost dead inside; he spoke to no-one, and if you decided to get on his wrong side, you were in big trouble. Harry was quick to decline the offer of friendship, and Charlie went into pure evil mode. Or he would've done, if Harry hadn't already claimed that title many years before.

However, this Charlie was more irksome than you can imagine; setting Harry up for crimes he himself had committed, stealing most of the food from the kitchen and hiding it in everyone's locker except for Harry's which caused Harry to get the blame (as if Harry would have been that stupid) and even going as far as hiding blades around Harry's things for the teachers to find on their inspections. But the things he framed Harry for were nowhere near as bad as the things he did _to_ Harry. Most things are too heinous to mention.

One night the boy found a way to navigate around the floor sensors, tied Harry to the bed and taped over his mouth and around his head with parcel tape. He went on to take one of his blades and slit Harry's scar back open, then slowly dragged the sharp edge down the sole of each foot. It was agony for Harry, who quickly found his strength.

One quick pull and all the binds came apart. Harry ripped the tape from around his head, painlessly; it seemed to come off like paper. Harry, ignoring all signs of pain in his feet, got up and shoved Charlie with all his force. A green jet of light shot from the scar on his head and the palms of his hands. Charlie flew back as a teacher and two security guards rushed into the room, one of which shot Harry with a dart filled with a strong sedative. Before Harry passed out he somehow knew that Charlie was dead.

…

No evidence. Finally, they had something that could get the Harry taken to a special unit, but they had no evidence. Nothing showed out of the ordinary on the coroner's report, so Harry could not be proved guilty for murder. But, the psychologists who examined Harry said that he was upset by all the things that had happened in his past and should be treated better than this. So, Harry was accepted into a local boarding school which was ordered to treat him like a normal student for the last 2 months of year 6, not one who had almost been guilty of murder and only gotten off on a technicality. Of course, this would prove not to help either.

…

It was three school days until Harry completed primary school. He needed to get through those days if he was going to be accepted into a mainstream school rather than a prison-like one. All had been going well, until Harry finished his work early. Well, I say work; it was more of a fun week.

He was allowed to watch the class snake whenever he finished what he needed to do, which he ended up doing on this particular afternoon. His teacher seemed to be angry about something that had happened earlier (maybe she'd been dumped) which made her take it out on the kids. At one particular point, the child under fire had been Harry. Not a good move on the teacher's behalf.

Harry sat staring into the snake tank, having what seemed like a one-sided conversation when he was rudely interrupted by the teacher.

"Harry Potter, will you kindly stop speaking to the snake. We all know you're disturbed, but even you aren't idiotic enough to think that the snake will understand you!" it really was an unkind thing for her to say, and Harry lost his temper.

"Oh yeah?" he spoke, which was rare in itself. As he did so, he opened the tank and let the snake out. It wasn't a massive creature, but it was big enough to cause a slight panic. As the snake slithered towards the teacher, Harry had to say one word only for pandemonium to ensue.

"_Bite!_" he ordered. But it wasn't in English, it was more of a hiss, but nobody noticed; they were preoccupied by the fact that the snake had sunk its fangs deep into the teacher's calf. Ouch.

Within minutes the teacher's pet of the class had fetched the headmaster, who grabbed Harry and brought him to his office whilst ordering the receptionist to assess the situation and do what she saw fit.

…

_Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring._

"Good afternoon; Vernon Dursley speaking."

"Ah, yes, Mr Dursley, this is the headmaster of Harry's school. I'm afraid there has been an… _incident_ here today."

"What the bloody hell has the boy done now?!"

"I'm afraid I can't discuss it over the phone now, you'll have to come here. Harry tells me the bus takes him home on a Friday, but he's missed it what with me having him here, so you'll have to bring him home with you."

"Is he there now? If so I'd like to speak to him."

_There came the sounds of the telephone being passed over._

"Hello, Pizza Plaza. May I take your order?"

"Very funny, boy. You'll be laughing on the other side of your face when I'm through with you. You brought shame on us; you know what we told you about being associated with anyone abnormal. What will the neighbours think?!"

"Surely you already know. One look at your entire family would scare the whole estate away; it's a wonder they don't die of revulsion or laughter when they see your son trying to walk down the street. His legs have to say excuse me to each other!"

"YOU LITTLE-"

"Sorry, I'm losing you. See you in a minute. Thank you for ordering with Pizza Plaza!"

_The line went dead._

…

"So, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to withdraw Harry from this school for the end of term. Normally, I'd let him stay, but his teacher is the only one that teaches his year and she refuses to let him near her or the class anymore. If you don't withdraw him, I'll have to officially expel him and I know you don't want that. So, what'll it be?" the headmaster finished off, steepling his fingers as he studied the rather beefy man before him.

"To be honest it's his own problem, and I know he thinks it's clever. He doesn't care about his future, neither should we. Go ahead and expel him. He'll have to learn to cope when he tries to get a job!"

Harry tensed as Vernon reached over and gently squeezed his neck. Harry recognised this as the code squeeze for "you'll be lucky if you see daylight anytime within the next month". He gulped.

"Very well, Mr Dursley. I'm afraid that this means Harry will have to go to St. Brutus' in September, so I'll start with the paperwork as we agreed before Harry came here. You should get the letter sometime at the end of July. Goodbye, Harry," the head said, as he extended a hand. Harry shook it before being told to collect his things and leave the premises, which he did, Vernon breathing down his neck the entire time.

…

All the way back to the Dursley home Harry was bellowed, screamed and yelled at, threatened, and got a painful cuff around the ear. At home his Aunt Petunia called him many things, the best of those being "ungrateful", and Dudley sat and laughed through it all. At the end of it all, Vernon gave Harry a whack round the other ear and shoved him into his cupboard. Harry knew he wouldn't be out until past his birthday.

**TBC**

**As you may have noticed I have changed loads of this. Well, all of it really. I just wanted to re-write it so it's in the right timeline, things will make sense, and because I wanted to make it that… well, you'll find out. The uniform in Hogwarts will be according to the movie, and the Smeltings uniform I'm changing to a relatively normal one because of something I want to happen later. Just thought you should know.**

**So you know, to suit the plot, I've had to change the time of when the letters turn up at the Dursley household, but that will be explained.**

**And yes, Harry **_**did**_** go to 33 schools, if that's not possible then imagine it.**

**One last thing, I need to know the names of some punk and/or rock bands that were around in 1990 and just after (please give a specific year), maybe just the end of the 80s. It's just because I want to be certain all the music and possibly technology is right. I'm pretty OK with my knowledge of bands before then, but help would be very much appreciated. Cheers!**

**Apologies if stuff doesn't make sense. Tell me if you find anything like that.**


	2. The Dursleys

**Chapter 2**

Harry was quite wrong in thinking it would be well past his birthday by the time he got out of the cupboard, as he was in fact let out _on_ his birthday, July 31st. With no warning the bolt of his cupboard door was opened by his aunt, who then proceeded to yell at him to get up and out.

Harry quickly dressed and pushed his door wide open, causing himself to stumble back into the cupboard and hit his head on the wall; his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, meaning he'd need a few minutes to get back to normal. Shame he didn't _have_ a few minutes.

"Harry! Get in here now! Your uncle has a letter that you need to read!" Petunia called, her patience already waning. Harry had no choice but to make his way into the kitchen, where the gleam of sunlight would be nothing compared to the challenge he had to face with the hassle he knew this letter would cause.

Vernon was sitting at a table, signing something that looked important. Harry sat at the table with a sigh, causing Vernon to look up.

"Go have a shower and brush your teeth, now. And come straight back," he ordered, the disgust evident in his voice. While Harry was upstairs, Vernon read the letter again and let out his own sigh.

_To the guardian of Harry James Potter_

_We have received confirmation that Harry is going to be placed here at St Brutus', so we have sent over the necessary documents that need signing. We need each document signed by the right people in order to accept Harry, due to his vast record._

_Also, as Harry no longer lives with his parents, we need details for your circumstances and how they came to be. As soon as we have all of our information, one of our official educational examiners will be sent over to assess Harry's needs._

_A leaflet for both you and Harry has been included in this letter, letting you know about us._

_Thank you for your cooperation,_

_St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys_

As he finished reading the letter, Harry re-entered the kitchen, his sopping wet hair dripping onto Dudley's old clothes that he was wearing.

"Too quick," he growled.

"Time is nothing to me," Harry muttered, staring out his uncle, who shuddered. That boy freaked him out sometimes, but he knew that he'd stamped out the _weirdness_; they hadn't received a letter.

"Sit. Read. Sign," Vernon ordered, pushing the letter, brochure and official document towards Harry.

Harry just stared down at what was being thrust towards him, the water on his hair making the paper get steadily damper.

"Well," Vernon snapped. "Get to it!"

"Er- no, I don't think I will, thanks," said Harry hesitantly as he pushed the stuff back to his uncle, who pushed it right back again.

"You- hang on… tell me what this letter is about. Go on; read it out," Vernon growled, an evil glint in his eye.

"It says- I have to sign something to get into that school. I _can_ read, you know."

Vernon waggled his moustache in frustration. "Just-"

"Not doing it."

…

As it had been so early in the day, Dudley didn't wake up until just after Harry finished his shower. He managed to enter the kitchen just as Vernon was about to throttle Harry, and did the kindest thing he could have done for Harry just then:

"I'm _hun_gry!" Dudley cried, and Harry could have sworn he heard a note of urgency in his cousin's voice, before remembering that the slightest sign of hunger for Dudley _was_ urgent.

Petunia (who had been watching her husband argue with Harry) and Vernon immediately started focusing all of their attention on their son, and Harry used this distraction to slip away from the table, grabbing the school leaflet as he went. He went into the living room and quickly scanned through the prospectus. He could tell it was mainly exam results from past years but from the photos he saw he knew that those smiles were forced.

Suddenly, without warning, Dudley's chubby hand reached from out of nowhere and grabbed the leaflet. Harry's eyes darted immediately to his cousin and scanned him over; there was no mistaking the crisp twenty pound note in the large boy's hand.

"You see this?" Dudley laughed. "you have to go on a ten mile hike in the grounds every day!"

Harry looked straight into Dudley's eyes.

"I know. I read it."

"Yeah?" said Dudley uncertainly. "What about… this; you have to wear electronic tags until you finish your last year. They _never_ take it off 'til then!"

Harry looked straight into Dudley's eyes again.

"Shut up, Diddy-kins. Oh, and tell your dad he's gonna have to try harder than that."

"Yeah, well; at least I got twenty quid."

Dudley dropped the leaflet and moped off.

…

A couple of hours later, Petunia had cooked a complete breakfast and Vernon was voicing his idea of all of them going up to London for the day (Harry got suspicious at this, because he didn't know that Vernon was planning to take him to what would be his new school). Then, a sudden rattle of the letterbox informed them that the post had arrived.

"Get it, Harry," Vernon barked across the table at his nephew, who sighed and went out into the hall, muttering profanities.

There was a thick bundle of letters on the mat, all of which would have been delivered about a month earlier. Harry leafed through them all. He usually did this out of habit; most of the time there was something concerning him in there. The reason there were so many letters was because of some unpleasant letters that had been sent to the Dursley family (because of injuries Harry may have inflicted on some students). After these had been sent, the family was advised to move, but Vernon refused, so all of their post had to be checked from then on.

Harry picked a letter at random and pulled it out of the bundle. He knew it was his from a single glance (isn't it strange how your own name sticks out like a sore thumb amongst loads of other stuff). Harry turned to go back to the kitchen, still holding the letter, but sudden instinct told him he should hide the letter in his cupboard, despite the darkness that would prevent him seeing anything in there.

Vernon gave Harry an earful about taking his time, and then sorted out his post.

"Bill… bill… bill… postcard… bill… bill… junk mail… letter from Smeltings…"

"Gimme!" Dudley cried, going for the letter with the crest of Vernon's old school stamped on it; the school Dudley was going in for, which Harry wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting into. "I got in, daddy!"

"Oh, Diddy-kins!" Petunia gasped. "What great news! Now we have a proper reason to go into London!"

Harry distinctly saw Vernon throw what seemed like a look of annoyance towards Petunia, but he was the only one who noticed.

…

The time had come for the Dursley family to make their way up to London. Harry knew he was to stay at home; he didn't know, but Vernon wouldn't have a chance to take Harry to the new school now that he had to sort Dudley's school supplies.

Before long Harry found himself being shoved into his cupboard again with the door bolted behind him. He waited about five minutes after the front door slammed to make sure the Dursleys had gone, and then started to rip the letter open. However, at the exact same moment that Harry pulled the letter out, there was a polite knock on the front door.

Without even thinking about it, Harry told his door to open, and it obliged. Still grasping the letter in his hand, Harry pulled the front door open.

"Yeah?"

"Oh," it was a very tall and old man, who had a long and glistening silver beard that could be tucked into his belt. He was wearing a purplish suit, which didn't really suit him. "Is Harry Potter here?"

"You're looking at him," Harry replied, staring the old man straight in the eye.

"Oh," the man said again. "I wasn't expecting that-"

"And I wasn't expecting this; what do you want?" Harry demanded. The man looked surprised, but not particularly angry.

"May I come in? My name is Professor Dumbledore," he asked.

"Ok… but I don't know what your name has to do with you coming in…" said Harry, stepping aside. The man, named Dumbledore, chuckled.

"Harry Potter, you are just like your father… I am the headmaster of his old school," Dumbledore added, seeing the look on Harry's face. "I've come to take you to get your things."

"Things?" asked Harry.

"Oh, you must not have read the letter, if you could pass it here, please… thank you," Dumbledore said, taking the letter Harry handed over. "Yes, everything seems to be in order. We had best get to Diagon Alley!"

"Where?! Why?! What the hell is going on?!" Harry demanded.

"Did nobody tell you? You're a wizard," Dumbledore said. Harry was stunned for a second, and then everything made sense.

"Oh," he said. "_That's_ why- never mind…" Harry quickly stopped himself. "So… do you know about my… previous school history?"

"I have heard… snippets. But, if you don't mind, I would like you to fill me in on the details… not now," he added as Harry opened his mouth. "Another time. Maybe today, maybe your first day at school, just not now."

Harry nodded.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask me?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Erm… a few things… well, I wanted to know if my parents were…" Harry trailed off.

"Your parents, Lily and James, were indeed a witch and wizard, respectively. They were in the same year and among the best at school. Head Boy and Head Girl."

"Right… er… and… I don't really want to say this, because if it's wrong I'm screwed. But… I can talk to snakes… is that bad?"

Dumbledore didn't look surprised, even though he explained that it was a very rare ability.

"Oh, ok. Er, also, I've sort of noticed that I can already make things happen… should I be doing that already, you know, because I haven't had any of this schooling stuff before- you know, to do with magic?" Harry added.

"It depends… what kind of things have you made happen?" Dumbledore asked, but he sounded pleasantly surprised rather than shocked or knowledgeable.

"Well, I don't like to really say… I can make things happen just by telling them to," Harry explained. "Let me show you."

Harry closed the front door that he'd held open even after Dumbledore entered, went into the kitchen and put a glass tumbler on the table. Dumbledore, who had also entered the kitchen, looked quizzically at Harry.

"I can't make it fly to the tap and fill itself up or whatever… at least not yet. But I'll show you what I did at one of my schools."

Dumbledore was taken aback: _one_ of his _schools_? Plural? Evidently, Harry hadn't realised he'd said anything out of the ordinary because he seemed to be concentrating on the glass.

Harry was actually summoning up the same emotion he'd felt that day he made the glass fly from the windows. Then, without warning, the glass exploded, sending shards everywhere. Without really meaning to, Harry had accidentally cracked then glass in the kitchen window. He strolled over and ran his fingers over the crack, oblivious to glass splinters, before turning back to Dumbledore, who had repaired the tumbler.

"Shall we be off?" the old man smiled serenely. Harry smirked and headed for the kitchen door, before looking quickly back at the window: the glass had mended itself.

…

Before they left for the mysterious Diagon Alley, Dumbledore requested to see Harry's room. When he saw the cupboard, Harry was quizzed about how he was treated, but the young boy refused to tell. With that, Dumbledore gave up and led Harry to what he called he called an Apparition Point.

"It will be much safer and easier if I take you this way. Just grip my arm tightly, and try not to let go."

The minute Harry had grabbed the man's arm, he seemed to twist around. Immediately, Harry felt as though he was being squeezed through tube; there were tight bands around his chest, getting stronger. Just when he thought he'd pass out, it all stopped. Harry looked around and saw himself in what looked like a small courtyard. To his left was a brick wall, in front of which were some dustbins.

Harry let go of Dumbledore's arm as they walked over to the wall instead of the door Harry saw behind them. There were slight murmurs coming from inside of the door, and when Harry listened closely he could hear drunken slurs. It was the ringing of a bell that convinced him that they were outside a pub.

Dumbledore coughed to get Harry's attention and they both turned to face the brick wall. Dumbledore got out a wand (a _wand_, thought Harry) and tapped one of the bricks on the wall. The effect was instantaneous; a hole appeared and gradually got so big that Harry thought a giant could get through it. Looking through the hole properly, Harry saw the most interesting place imaginable.

"Bloody Hell!" Harry cried, making Dumbledore chuckle.

**TBC**

**Better than before, ain't it? Well, I think so. Even though looking back about a year or two after writing it and I see I can still improve… Anyway, don't have much to say… reviews are welcome!**

**Omg I just typed in a search for Florean Fortesque into my computer search station (msn live) and it named somebody called Chris Florean Eeylop Albus Fortesque… recognise any Harry Potter names in there? I'll tell you this, it was in a wiki Uncyclopedia (yes, un) on the cashmere string theory. There was also another name beginning with Grindel… but it wasn't Grindelwald lol.**


	3. The Escape

**Chapter 3**

A crowded cobblestone street lay before Harry and Dumbledore, their shops selling a strange assortment of items. Without thinking, Harry had darted off through the crowd.

Dumbledore stared after Harry in a very confused way, before going to get the boy some money: he'd find him later. So Dumbledore started striding through the crowd to the marble building that was Gringotts, the wizarding bank. As he passed students and friendly faces, he got greeted. The tiny children who had grown up around wizards giggled slightly at the old man's attire, which seemed odd to them. Dumbledore only smiled in a kind way.

Meanwhile, Harry had found himself in some sort of clothes shop where everything just seemed like a long coat. A pale, blond boy with his hair slicked back was having some of these fitted by a stern but patient looking woman.

"Hogwarts, dear?" the woman asked through the pins she held in her mouth.

"Er… I don't know…" Harry replied, realising he never found out the name of his new school.

"How old are you?" said the blond boy.

"11 today, I think"

"You think you're eleven or you think it's today?"

"I think it's today… yep it is. The 31st of July: my birthday!" Harry grinned.

"So, you must be starting school in September… and it must be Hogwarts," the woman said.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Well, Hogwarts is the only wizarding school in Britain, isn't it?" The blond boy pointed out.

"I dunno. Dumbledore said my parents went there so it must be in Britain. Hang on… is Dumbledore the headmaster of Hogwarts? Because if he is then, yes I'm going there," Harry explained.

"Yeah, he is," the boy said with a light sniff of what could have been disapproval. "Anyway… didn't you read the letter?"

"I… er… didn't get the chance…" Harry trailed off.

"So," the woman sighed. "Now we've cleared that up, you wait there until I'm done with Draco."

"Oh, no. I'm ok to browse. I think Dumbledore has my money… and we got… separated."

The boy named Draco laughed as the witch sighed in exasperation over the wasted discussion.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," the boy introduced himself. "And you?"

"Oh, my name's Harry."

"Harry what?"

"Potter," said Harry. Immediately Draco's mouth fell open and the woman dropped all of her pins.

"You're joking! Prove it!" Draco said disbelievingly.

"How am I meant to do that?"

"Have you got that scar? The lightening shaped one on your forehead?"

Harry lifted his fringe, wondering why this boy knew about his scar. Hardly anyone knew about it; it was always covered by his fringe.

"Ok, I believe you!" the boy held out his hand and Harry shook it, grinning.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Well, you're the one who stopped You-Know-Who,"

"What?"

"You know."

"Who?"

"You-Know-Who."

"Do I?"

"What?"

"Know?"

"Who?"

"You know who!"

"Exactly!"

"What?"

"You know."

"Who?"

"Exactly!"

"Wha-"

"For heaven's sake, boys!" the witch said, causing the pair to burst out laughing.

"Hey, Harry. If you wait for me I'll take you round and explain."

"Ok," replied Harry.

"What?"

"You know,"

"Not again," said the witch.

…

"…so, basically, Slytherin is the house to go to. Am I right?"

"Nail on the head! Yep, Slytherin or nothing. Although, I suppose Ravenclaw would be better than Hufflepuff or-" Draco shuddered. "-Gryffindor!"

Harry was being filled in about the wizarding world by Draco Malfoy, the boy he met in the shop (which turned out to be Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions). They had just passed a street sign saying 'Knockturn Alley', when someone put their hand on Harry's shoulder. He stopped and looked up into a pair of startlingly blue eyes.

"Oh… err… hey! I was… err… looking for you?" Harry tried, whilst Draco started sniggering.

"You boys shouldn't be down here, especially on your own," Dumbledore said calmly.

"We ain't on our own, are we?" Harry replied.

"God, Harry! Who taught you English grammar?" Draco laughed.

"Grammar? I barely know English!"

"I can tell!" Draco exclaimed. Before Harry could reply, Dumbledore had started to pull Harry back to Diagon Alley.

"OI! WHAT THE HELL?!" Harry yelled without thinking. "Sorry! I meant… what do I need to get?"

…

The rest of the day had consisted of shopping for school supplies: quills, ink, scales, a cauldron, a big pile of books which were "essential", an even bigger pile which Harry had argued with Dumbledore to get, his school uniform (shirt, plain black tie, trousers, robes, shoes, cloaks and a jumper), dragon-hide gloves and some other stuff, all of which Dumbledore read off of his list for him. Harry even got a chance to buy two owls, a black one and a white one which were named Shadow and Hedwig respectively. Finally, the time came to get a wand.

The pair entered a shop called Ollivander's, and Harry got the feeling of foreboding, as though you shouldn't speak too loudly. A bell made a tinkling noise as the door opened and closed, and an old man appeared from what looked like a back room, looking as though he was cleaning a wand.

"Ah!" the man cried. "Dumbledore! I wasn't expecting you until later!"

"Yes, it didn't take as long as I thought. What are you doing there, Ollivander?"

"Oh, I'm just stripping off the polish. It was overdone you see… much too tacky. What I'm doing here is taking the gloss off, so I'll be left with the original brown wood. But first, I see I have a long awaited customer!" Ollivander put the wand down and beckoned Harry towards him.

"Let's see… this shouldn't be too hard!"

…

Famous last words.

…

They must have tried every wand in the shop! In fact, they _did_ try every wand in the shop, and Ollivander seemed stumped. Then he clicked his fingers and grabbed the wand he'd been un-polishing. Harry took it and felt warmth grow from his fingertips all the way down to his toes and throughout his whole body.

"Curious… very curious…" Ollivander said with a meaningful glance at Dumbledore.

"Huh? What's curious?" Harry asked.

"This is it?" Dumbledore said behind him.

"What?!"

"Indeed it is… quite surprising, but I can't say I'd never thought of it…"

"_WHAT?!_"

"The wand is holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches," explained Ollivander. "And the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather to another wand. And…" He stalled.

"Just _tell_ me!" Harry urged, causing Dumbledore to smile.

"The wand that has the other feather belongs to the wizard who killed your parents and gave you that scar," The old man finished instead of Ollivander.

"Oh," Harry nodded, drawing out the word nice and long.

"You don't know who that is, do you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not a clue."

…

Dumbledore took Harry to an ice cream parlour which was owned by a wizard called Florean Fortesque. Here he told Harry about a man named Lord Voldemort who had gone after Harry and his parents, Lily and James, to kill them. Voldemort had succeeded in the murder of Lily and James, but he'd failed when he turned his wand on Harry and the curse had rebounded. It seemed nobody knew why, but Voldemort had vanished from his body. The headmaster explained how many thought Voldemort was dead, but others thought he was biding his time. Harry also got confirmation that he was, in fact, extremely famous in the wizarding world and apparently extremely rich.

"Will you stop doing that," Dumbledore said to Harry.

"Oh, sorry," Harry had been making the carnation in the middle of the table shrink back into a seed and grow up and die and back again.

"What do you think happened to Voldemort?" Harry enquired. To his surprise, Dumbledore almost leapt to his feet.

"Let us go and browse in Quality Quidditch Supplies before we leave. I'm sure you'll find it most exciting."

"What just happened here?" Harry asked himself as he watched the retreating back of his future headmaster. "Wait for me!" Harry ran after Dumbledore. "And what the hell is Quidditch?"

…

For the remaining weeks of the summer holiday, Harry stayed in his cupboard. He'd conveniently forgotten to tell the Dursleys about going to Hogwarts and was planning to do a runner in the early hours of September 1st to get to the train station which would take him to kings cross. The night before at about 7 o'clock Harry, dressed as he always was now in the black school trousers of his new school and dark green polo shirt of his old school, was shoving everything into his backpack.

At first he was absolutely certain that none of his things would fit, but by the time he'd finished the bag was hardly even heavy and there was still room to spare. Harry strongly suspected magic had came into play here. All of a sudden the door of his cupboard flew open.

"Ah, you've packed!" Harry's uncle said in a rare moment of satisfaction. He grabbed Harry, who felt quite confused, and pulled him into the living room. Harry glimpsed a custard coloured yellow school uniform on the sofa before Vernon grabbed onto him and held Harry's head so he was looking into Vernon's eyes. "I didn't trust that you'd put on the uniform after your little trick didn't work. As if not signing the papers would help you in your situation. We got a court order that will let us use any method possible to get you in the grounds. If you escape, the police'll have a valid warrant for your arrest. My trick telling you to pack for Stonewall High worked a treat. You fell for it hook, line and sinker."

In reality, Harry had never even listened to Uncle Vernon, so this was quite new to him. The large and frankly sweaty man stood leaning over Harry, who wrinkled his nose in an expression of distaste. One thing was for sure… Jake was not wearing that ugly uniform. Nosiree.

Which surprising strength for someone so small, Harry swung and thrust a palm into his uncle's nose and before he knew it his other fist swung round and hit Vernon in his temple.

The beefy man swayed on the spot for a second before collapsing to the ground. Petunia screamed and Dudley, who had been on his computer games all this time, raced down from his room. But Harry missed all this, because the moment his fist had made impact, he had grabbed his stuff and run to his cupboard.

Grabbing the two birdcages which contained Shadow and Hedwig, Harry burst into the back garden, which was nearest. Harry opened the cages and said to both birds, "Go to Hogwarts! If I'm not there tomorrow, they'll look for you and know something's up."

Harry had spoken out of pure desperation, but both birds looked at each other and flew purposefully in the same direction.

Petunia appeared at the door looking scared rather than angry.

"Where did those owls come from?" she asked, asking a completely different question that Harry thought she'd ask.

"Magic," Harry answered cryptically.

…

Harry was beginning to get out of breath as he ran into Kings Cross Station. There was a policeman running after him who'd identified him from his old green school shirt. How stupid was he, wearing part of a primary school uniform?

Harry had hidden in the toilet of the train on the way to London, because EVERYONE knew that was how you avoided the ticket collector when you didn't actually HAVE a ticket… and he was technically on the run… but felt it would have been easier to get off one stop before London because they'd know he was headed for Kings Cross, especially if Petunia had worked out what he'd meant. Making his way here had been easy enough. All Harry had done was run and his feet took him where he needed to go.

"Stop!" The policeman had finally caught up with Harry at the beginning of the ticket barriers between platforms nine and ten. "I am arresting you for assault, resisting arrest-" Harry's fist swung out wildly and hit the policeman in the jaw "-and assaulting a police officer-"

Before either of them knew it, Harry had broken away and had disappeared into the crowd coming off the early morning train. Seconds later he'd left the platform completely.

…

Harry glanced up to a big clock that was sticking out from a wall. 1:39.

The great red steam train was there already, but nobody else was and Harry, not knowing the usual routine, didn't want to get on there just yet. He knew from his letter that the train would leave at 11am, so he changed into his crisp white new school shirt, before slipping on a pair of faded red and blue converse which used to belong to Dudley when the boys were eight. That being done, Harry shoved the green shirt in the bin. It was then that he realised that he hadn't been wearing any shoes throughout the whole chase.

An extremely weary Harry lay down on a bench and closed his eyes…

…

"Hey, little boy," a voice was whispering gently into Harry's ear. "Hey, you gettin' on the train?"

Harry stirred slightly. He wasn't used to being woken up so gently. He opened his eyes to look into the face of a kind woman who must have been a witch.

"Who're you?" Harry asked through a yawn as he stretched his arms out wide, feeling his back pop; a strangely enjoyable feeling.

"I push the food trolley on the train. The driver saw you on the bench when he woke up in the train, and he's got a wireless in there that you might want to listen to. Come along, Harry," the witch said, smiling faintly and studying the boy before her closely, knowing exactly how long he'd been there for.

"'Kay… how'd'you know my name?" Harry asked, knowing that his hair, though not yet shoulder length, was long enough to hide his scar. The witch answered as she boarded the train and made her way to the front.

"Well, first there was an announcement on the news about a Harry Potter wearing a green shirt, and I saw the shirt in the bin. We also know that you'd been in Kings Cross in the early morning and it made sense that you'd come here. Then there's that slight detail that you are identical to your father, minus the slightly longer hair and the fact that you have your mother's eyes," she finished. Harry followed her in stunned silence and they arrived at slightly more luxurious carriages.

"Why are these better than the others?" Harry asked. The witch turned and looked at him before pointing at the signs on the doors.

"Prefect carriages. Also, sometimes new members of staff can use these and the Head Boy and Girl have the choice. There are a few adults, like me, the driver, a mechanic and occasionally an important guest will stay up here when the train is needed."

"Oh, ok," Harry didn't really understand, but the witch seemed satisfied and turned around. Not long after they'd reached the head of the train.

"Here he is, Frankie," the witch said, quite loudly. Harry got the impression that the driver was a little deaf.

"Ah, Harry!" Frankie said. He was nearing the end of middle age, but looked older. He had pure white hair that flew out and made him look like Albert Einstein. "You've got a search party out for you, m'boy! Here, I've tuned this into a muggle station. Hang on, I'll get back to the beginning. It started about half an hour ago…"

Frank pointed his wand at an old wireless so they heard a whirring sound, then-

_Good morning London, you're listening to the nine o'clock news. If you've been listening through the night then you'll already know about the 11 year old fugitive on the run. The boy, hereon know as H.P., ran from home last night as his family attempted to take him to St Brutus' Institution for Incurably Criminal Boys where he was referred to after a succession of permanent exclusion from his previous schools. H.P. is of a slight figure, is fairly short at 4ft 6 inches, has scruffy black hair that covers his neck, ears and forehead and almost his eyes. He wears round glasses and has vivid green eyes in the shape of almonds, and distinctive markings are a lightening bolted scar on his forehead and he should be wearing a green shirt with a school logo as well as a pair of black trousers, as he has no change of clothing._

_The story so far is this: H.P. had packed his school bag after being told that he would be starting at the local comprehensive school, Stonewall High in Surrey. His aunt and uncle then prepared for the process of taking him to his school after warning him that what they did was entirely legal and by running he would knowingly instigate a warrant for his arrest. Harry then lashed out at his uncle, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious, before running from the house in no shoes._

_From what we've gathered, H.P. then took a train to London and ran the last stretch to Kings Cross after getting off at the wrong stop. He was spotted by a policeman who caught up with him and arrested him but was then incapacitated. After this the boy was then lost in the crowd, but guards positioned at all train entrances and station exits have reported that the boy never left the station, and guards at both ends of the platform insist that the boy never left that stretch of walkway and searches of the trains confirm that._

_We are told that this boy must be approached with caution and not to be treated with sympathy after he almost caused the death of 5 people, and is currently under investigation for the death of one schoolmate. We will be bringing more on this later but first we have more information on weapons the boy may be carrying._

_The policeman he hit and his uncle have confirmed that he indeed wore a knuckle duster and is more than likely to have a gun or knife in his possession. Police have given out a hotline number and we'll also be interested to hear your views._

The broadcast finished with some music and went into something to do with an accident.

"You don't want to hear anymore, boy," Frankie said with glee in his voice. "They reckon you should be chucked into an asylum or youth offenders!" He began laughing so hard that Harry noticed he had false teeth that were in danger of falling out.

"I don't see how that's funny," Harry exclaimed. "They'll find me soon; I won't talk myself out of it!"

"Ah, you think Dumbledore will let you be taken away?!" The driver asked. "Don't be daft! Oh, I can't wait until him and the Minister get their mitts on the muggle Prime Minister!"

**TBC**

**Ah, sorry for that little side story going on there, but I was bored and thought some action and trouble wouldn't go amiss.**

**Don't worry, Harry will not get into trouble (yet) and I might have him sorted next chapter if there's space.**

**Any questions, you're welcome to ask.**


	4. The Train

**Chapter 4**

Harry deposited his backpack in the compartment at the back of the train before going back on to the platform. By the time he'd done this and found some litter to throw on top of the green shirt in the bin, it was almost 10 o'clock, and that was when the first group of Hogwarts students started arriving.

From the looks on some of the younger students' faces they were first years, and the looks on their parents' face made it obvious that they were from families of what wizards called muggles (no wizarding blood whatsoever). When a girl with bushy hair directed her gaze towards Harry with a peculiar look on her face, Harry realised that they must have heard the news or at least encountered the police at Kings Cross, so he dived back into the train and didn't get out until it was a quarter to eleven.

Harry had just glimpsed a head of blond hair that had been slicked back, and decided to get out and grab his friend. As he slammed the door he heard a sort of squelch and smiled when he realised the door had temporarily glued itself shut.

Harry cut in front of a red-haired family where the youngest son glared and the only daughter followed him with her eyes.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed as he reached his friend. "Thought you weren't gonna make it!"

"And miss the chance of going into Slytherin? You have to be joking!" Draco laughed. "You're all over the papers! Something to do with being arrested. Well… it didn't say your name, but we knew… " When Harry looked sheepish, Draco roared with laughter.

"Now, now, Draco! I'm sure the muggles were mistaken… anyway, a muggle prison would _never_ hold a wizard. Azkaban on the other hand…" Draco's mother was saying. Harry couldn't help but notice that she was a fairly pretty woman, and at the same time, he didn't quite fancy getting on the wrong side of her.

"Right… well, I'm in the compartment at the back of the train, Draco. See you in a bit," and Harry left, trying to work out what Azkaban meant and at the same time realising that everyone had brought a trunk with them for their stuff, but he just had a ratty backpack (which nevertheless worked anyway).

Harry reached his compartment but found one of the red-heads he cut in front of earlier trying to tug the door open. No matter how hard the boy tugged he was getting nowhere and Harry watched with increasing annoyance.

"Any chance of moving so I can get into my compartment?" he asked somewhat irritably. The other boy just looked at him.

"You wouldn't be able to get in there, mate. I'm Ron Weasley, by the way," the red-head introduced himself, extending his right rand. This time it was Harry's turn to just look. He then pushed past and easily opened the door before slamming it behind him when he was inside, making sure he heard the squelching noise.

As he sat down and stretched out, he heard the other boy, Ron, tugging at the door handle. Harry ignored him at first but then after he wouldn't stop Harry cried out… at the exact same time that someone else shouted the same thing.

"Will you _piss off?!_"

Harry did a double take. Outside in the corridor of the train Draco was glaring at Ron Weasley, who snarled straight back. Harry stood and opened the door.

"Goodbye, Ron Weasley," He stared at the boy, who sneered at him, obviously under the impression that his shortness made him less powerful.

"Stay out of this, little boy," Weasley spat. He never took his eyes off of Draco, so he missed the lightening fast punch to the temple from Harry. He sank to the floor in a dead faint.

"Cool," said Draco.

"Ouch," said Harry. "Coming in?"

Draco followed Harry into the compartment as they both ignored the unconscious red-head. Draco pulled out some wizard comics and handed one to Harry, who grudgingly accepted, though he took a few moments to massage his knuckles first.

"Done any spells?" he asked his friend.

Draco snorted.

"Sort of," he replied. "Father allowed me to try and teach myself first and second year spells, but only in my own room. I didn't get too far though, I got bored after the first few. What about you?"

"Well, I can do magic, I always have done," Harry explained. "But I haven't even opened the books properly yet. I just seem to… know stuff."

Draco stared at him. "Show me."

Harry thought for a minute. Then he turned to the window as most of his good magic involved glass. As he willed again for the glass the break, it cracked, and portions of it flew out. Draco looked unimpressed until Harry reached out and pressed on it… and it repaired.

"But," Harry went on. "Since I got my wand it's so much more powerful, unless I am really emotional."

Harry pulled his wand from his bag and pointed it at the glass. Immediately it exploded and the glass flew out. There were screams out on the platform. Harry poked his head out and spoke to the crowd.

"Sorry, my bad!" his eye caught sight of a particularly stern looking witch, a red haired woman. Next to her was a boy of about 15 years, spluttering with indignation. He pulled out his wand along with some of the adults, but Harry got there first and replaced the glass by running his had along the jagged edges.

"Cool," muttered Draco admiringly. Harry glanced at him and avoided looking back out the window. He heard footsteps and a strange strangled scream.

"Ron?!"

Harry leaned back. "Draco."

"Hmmm?"

"I think there could be trouble here," Harry commented. As he said this, the door slammed open and the boy from the platform was there. He had hornrimmed glasses on, and a really weird hairstyle going on, as if he was trying to look like some kind of teacher.

"What have you done to my brother?" he demanded.

"Who's your brother?" Harry asked.

"Ron!"

"No, I'm Draco," said Draco.

"My brother, Ron!"

"Nooooo… he's Draco, idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!"

"Then what are you?" asked Harry.

"A prefect!"

"Oooo-oooh!" Harry and Draco intoned mockingly.

The boy seemed to hold anger in his eyes. He suddenly grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt. Harry yawned.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Fifteen," the boy answered, puzzled.

"Now, I'm eleven, so I don't think you'll last as a prefect if you punch my lights out. I doubt I'll even feel it," Harry scoffed.

"Oh yeah well-"

"PERCY! PUT HIM DOWN THIS INSTANT!" a muffled woman's voice rang out through the window from the platform. The boy's face went white.

"Yeah Percy, put him down this instant," Harry smirked. Percy the perfect prefect dropped Harry and left the carriage. Outside he could be heard reviving his brother.

"How the hell did you stay in your other school?"

"Who said I did?" Harry sighed. He was feeling slightly nervous now about school. He wanted to stay at this place, but he was pretty sure that he would not be able to help himself getting into trouble. Harry bit hard on his lip until he found it breathing.

Harry picked up the comic and opened it. Then there was… the other problem. How hard it would be to hide, Harry didn't have a clue.

…

About halfway through the afternoon, two more redheads entered the carriage. Draco eyed them with a sneer, but Harry decided to be civil.

"Who are you?" Well… this was civil for Harry.

"Fred and George," the boys intoned. They were obviously twins, and they had a friendlier look about them somehow. "And you?"

"Harry. This is Draco," Harry replied. The younger boys made eye contact and shared a deeper understanding.

"Hi," Draco smiled.

"We heard a bit about you, further down the train. 'Twas interesting, was it not George?"

"Fascinating, Fred."

"My brother and I are starting our 3rd year, and we would be pleased to pass our expertise of Hogwarts to you fine merry men," Fred said.

Harry just looked at them.

…

Before long, Harry's nerves were hitting him full pelt.

"Are you ok, Harry?" one of the twins asked. Harry didn't care who at that moment.

"Yeah, you look really pale," the other twin said.

"I'm ok, just a splitting headache," Harry groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut, this was partly true; he had the headache, but the nerves were what made him ill. Attempting to take his mind off of them, he started the conversation he'd been least looking forward to having. "What school did you go to before Hogwarts?"

"Academy," Everyone in the carraige answered.

"What's that?" Harry asked, curious.

"YWA," answered George. "Young Wizard's Academy. It's a boy's school for wizards too young for Hogwarts. Mainly purebloods sent their sons there. We got sent away to there by Ministry Order."

Fred and George both grinned mischievously.

"My father sent me there as an example," Draco sighed. "I hated it; they were total dicks there. Most kids were home-schooled instead. The girls' version kept getting burnt down for some reason or another."

"What about your school?" asked Fred. Harry was saved from answering as a girl slid open the door and stood with her hands on her hips. She was a first year; she wore the school uniform already but still had on a black tie.

"Yes?" Harry spoke, his green eyes taking in ever detail of the girl, from her bushy hair and rather large front teeth to her otherwise quite pretty features. Draco, sitting nearby, shifted around and Harry could almost sense what he was about to say, so Harry gave the girl a very meaningful look, hoping she'd get the idea.

Maybe Harry seemed a little scary, maybe the girl understood, or maybe she'd noticed something further down the corridor… but whatever it was, she left. And quickly too.

Turning back to the occupants of the compartment, Harry was met with the slightly comical image of Draco staring at the door with his mouth wide open, ready to insult, and Fred and George sitting side-by-side, each with an eyebrow raised.

"Oooooookay," the pair spoke, and nothing more was said on the matter.

…

It seemed like not at all long passed before the sky darkened and the twins began looking meaningfully out of the window. Harry would have asked why they did this, had he not already known they were looking for Hogwarts. Also, quite frankly, he felt that opening his mouth would just result in a nauseating mess for everyone involved, and instead, Harry began to dress in his school robes, trying not to look as nervous as he was.

Whilst Draco was oblivious, the Weasley twins knew the look on Harry's face and, when the younger boy looked in their direction, they each gave him a wink.

"Nearly there," Draco announced unhelpfully, packing his few items away that he'd thought to travel with. There were some sweets left over from when the woman Harry had met earlier came trundling along with the trolley, and both twins soon had those stowed away in a safe place.

Their pockets.

"Okay… here we go… chill out… you'll be fine… no more trouble…" Harry whispered to himself, pale and staring out of the window as he felt the train start to squeal to a stop. It was all he needed for his heart to start hammering in his chest, so much so that it almost hurt. Draco looked at him curiously, but held his tongue when it came to wanting to say something.

As soon as the train came to a complete stop, there was a thundering out in the corridor of the train as students, first years and wizards of age alike, made to get off the train. Harry was pretty sure that most of them were ecstatic and excited and just pleased to be back. It must feel like home to a lot of people. Heck, he was excited… he was just nervous.

Internally, right then, Harry made a promise to himself. Take things one day at a time… and try not to get in trouble. Just… be… careful.

With a nod to himself, Harry straightened his robes and led the way out of the compartment, joining the throng headed for the platform.

The two boys had barely enough time to take in their night-time surroundings, the smell of the coal from the steam engines and the bustle of students heading to… where? Where were they supposed to go?

Harry had just turned to Fred and George to ask them this… when he noticed that they'd vanished. With a slight frown, Harry turned instead to Draco, began to ask, but then was drowned out by a loud, booming voice.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere!" it said… well… bellowed… and Harry turned once more to see a giant of a man, holding a huge lantern and towering over the tallest seventh years. Harry, being so small, felt a kind of reverse vertigo, and he followed Draco to the man.

And Draco looked less than impressed.

**TBC**

**The next few chapters are being rewritten. I'll write them ASAP, but for now, there's going to be a little 'please be patient' message.**

**Sorry. I swear, this will be the last time I change it.**

**Pwomise.**

**~Zoe**


	5. Please Wait

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	6. Please Wait Again

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	7. Waiting still required

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	8. Dooooop

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Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	9. Still waiting?

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	10. Good because you need to wait

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	11. Waiting is boring

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	12. I'll write the rest soon, though

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	13. I pwomise

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	14. This is boring

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


	15. Once more, please wait

Please bear with me. This story is currently being rewritten and I will get back to it imminently.

Say thankya. Thankya big-big.

~Zoe


End file.
